Two months later:
In the office of Amanda Waller at Task Force X headquarters in Washington, D.C., the heavyset black woman was sitting at her desk, poring over paperwork, when her door opened. She hadn’t heard her secretary buzz. Without looking up, Amanda calmly grabbed the gun attached to the underside of her desk and looked up. “Flag. What the hell brings your sorry ass in here?”
“Nice to see you, too, Wall. Why so jumpy? Deadshot giving you problems?” Rick Flag said as he sat down opposite Waller.
“I’m a busy woman, Flag. State your business or get the hell out.”
As director of the Meta-Human Rehabilitation Agency under which the Task Force X directive operated, Rick Flag was technically Amanda Waller’s boss. But nobody could boss the Wall, and he generally kept his nose out of her business. While he ran the public face of the MHRA that included Captain Comet’s Rehab Squad, Waller was the administrator of a covert-ops version of that public team nicknamed Extreme Justice, which was the Suicide Squad in all but its name. Trying to be flippant while his eyes betrayed the concern he felt, he said, “Fine. I need your help. Karin Grace — Goldstar — has disappeared, and I need your help finding her.”
A big grin crossed Amanda’s face. “Wait. Let me get this straight. You lost your girlfriend, you have about as many super-losers at your disposal as I do, and yet you come to me of all people for help. That’s rich.” Amanda stood up and crossed in front of the desk, getting in Flag’s face. “Why?”
Flag stood as well, nose to nose with Waller. “Precisely because they are a bunch of super-losers. We might have had a few successes in the past, but I don’t want anyone knowing she’s missing, and the costumed types in the Rehab Squad attract a lot of attention. Besides, it’s gone all to hell with so many people quitting, and despite all my efforts I’m positive Captain Comet will be the next to leave with General Logan interfering so much lately. You have a reputation for being a hell of a lot more covert and quiet than I can be. Damn it, Amanda, she’s missing, and I don’t have a clue where or why or who. I need your help.”
“What’s in it for me?” Waller asked.
Flag thought for a moment. “Name your price.”
To Be Continued